


In My Blood

by ladymac111



Series: all the things that we could do [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blow Jobs, Coitus Interruptus, Cunnilingus, Dry Humping, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Jewish Pidge | Katie Holt, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, POV First Person, Porn with Feelings, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sex Pollen, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, unprotected sex, why does ao3 have cunnilingus but not fellatio hmmmmmm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 21:58:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17353361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymac111/pseuds/ladymac111
Summary: Alien pollen elicits an allergic response in Pidge that’s unlike anything she’s ever experienced before, and it seems to be affecting Hunk too.  And it’s all too much, she can’t keep hiding her feelings, her desires -- she needs him touching her, under her skin, like she’s never needed anything before.





	In My Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Characters are of age. Takes place before the end of season 6 or in an AU for obvious reasons, and shortly after my fic “On Your Side” (also in this series).
> 
> For the Voltron NSFW Big Bang
> 
> Artwork TBA!
> 
> Music:  
> [In My Blood by The Veronicas](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FHzu69V8Z14)  
> [Mood playlist on Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/129963216/playlist/1WMioOUVX4mpWZvRBwjHnh?si=W-wSTYC3RsiqQkHNk8jSYQ)

_Now you got me wanting more_  
_I felt religion with you on the floor_  
_The holy word that I've been waiting for_  
_Baby stay with me, stay with me_  
_We don't have to wait all night_  
_To know if this is really love_  
_We don't have to wait all night_  
_'Cause I can feel you in my blood_

 

“Do you have a visual on it?”

Hunk’s voice crackles through the radio in my helmet, and I’m glad he’s not down here in the brush with me because I’m afraid I might deck him if he was, and it’s not his fault I’m currently fucking miserable.  The mud is up to my shins, it’s humid as hell, and some plant down here is apparently trying _really_ hard to breed because there’s so much pollen that the air is almost yellow, and a dusting of it is collecting on my suit.

“Negative.”  I try to modulate my tone, for his sake.  “Can you give me any guidance?”

“You’re within five meters.  Sorry I can’t be more specific, its signal is really weak.”

I’m so flustered I have to stop and put my hands over my face.  I can’t see _anything_ , there’s so much vegetation.  I take a deep breath and wish I could rub my eyes under my visor, they’re so fucking itchy from this pollen.  I’m going to have to get some space Benadryl from Coran when we get back.

I drop my hands and stand up straight, looking around at the forest and trying to tell if it looks like any branches or anything were broken when our target fell to the ground.  I turn slowly in a circle, ignoring the squelching of my feet in the mud as best I can.

_There!_

There’s a hole in the canopy, looks like, so I head in that direction and after only half a dozen steps I spot it, the washing-machine-sized block of silver and black Galra memory core that came out of the spy ship that Lance shot down.

“I have a visual,” I say, trudging right up to it and laying my hand on it.  “It’s gigantic, are you going to give me a hand with it or what?”

“Ten-four, I’ve got a fix on your location and I’ll be right there.”

 

By the time we get the thing into the yellow lion, the sweat is dripping down my body inside my suit and my eyes are almost swollen shut from the fucking pollen.  Hunk seems to be reacting to it, too -- he’s let out a couple of impressive sneezes, and he’s sniffling a little as he pilots the lion on its short jump back to the castle.  I’m resisting the urge to keep rubbing my eyes; I know it won’t help any, it’ll just get even more pollen in there.

Lance and Shiro are there to meet us when we arrive, and they take the memory core to the lab while we go back to our rooms to clean up.

I’m practically peeling the suit off me before I even get in the door, and I get my body out of it and into the shower as quickly as I can.  I feel warm all over in an uncomfortable way, so I turn the water most of the way to cold. It’s a relief, even if it doesn’t do the job all the way.  But I scrub myself down and clear out my sinuses thoroughly and wash my face about five times before I decide enough is enough, and then I need to get over to the lab because Hunk and I have to get to work on the thing we recovered.

I get dressed, but the scrape of the fabric against my skin is almost painful; I’m overly sensitive, my whole body, definitely a lingering reaction to the pollen.  God, I _hate_ having allergies.  I hate that I still have them even when I’m living in science fiction -- wasn’t stuff like this supposed to just be magically fixed?

Ugh.  Ugh, ugh, _ugh!_  My whole body feels weird and I’m super cranky about this whole mission.  I just want to pull my clothes off again and get into bed, but Hunk and I have work to do.

He’s already in the lab when I arrive, and to my relief, he’s alone.  The relief is a bit of a surprise, though. I’d expected Coran at least to be here to help us, and it’s fine that he’s not; something about my mood right now doesn’t want to deal with anybody but Hunk.

Which is, admittedly, not a new feeling for me.  Hunk doesn’t take _dealing with_ the way the rest of them occasionally do.  Even when he’s annoying, I don’t want to not be around him.  I even kind of like it when he does obnoxious things, which is weird and makes me feel weird in my chest and belly and thinking about it now I’m getting that same feeling, the feeling I’ve been trying so hard to repress because I don’t _want_ to be feeling this, not in these circumstances, not for a teammate.  Not for my best friend.

But I _am_ feeling it.  I’m feeling it _so much_ right now, all of a sudden, and when Hunk hears me enter the room and he turns around in his chair and smiles at me, my heart just stops, and I freeze, and I feel lighter than air and I’m drowning in adoration.  I’m not even trying to not feel it right now either -- something about me is still kind of messed up from this allergic reaction, I guess. I feel so weird, I’ve never felt this _much_ about Hunk and I know with bone-deep certainty that I couldn’t ignore this right now if my life depended on it.

“Hi,” he says, and my heart starts beating again, far too fast.

“Hey,” I say, but it’s just a squeak, and his smile grows, but his eyebrows are concerned.

“Are you okay?” he says.  “Your face is really pink.”

I force myself to walk towards him, and I rub my cheek -- I feel flushed, my skin is prickly like I’m blushing.  “Yeah, I’m still reacting to that pollen from the planet.”

He grimaces a little.  “That was something, wasn’t it?”

“The worst.”

“I even reacted to it, I can’t imagine how much worse it is for you.”

“You reacted too?”

“Yeah.”  He scratches the back of his neck, his shoulder, his arm.  “Even though I washed it off, my skin feels a little bit weird, kind of swollen.”

I swallow as hard as I can.  “Mine too.”

“I, um,” he begins, but then seems to reconsider.  “There’s … some other things going on too. Swelling-type things.”

Something about his posture changes, and he looks like he’s trying to hide his groin by leaning forward and letting his belly cover it, and then I can’t _not_ look and he leans forward more and then I _know_ and I suddenly can’t breathe.

“Hunk?”

He shakes his head quickly, and actually grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls on it, covering himself, but it’s too late: I noticed.  “Like I said. Other things too.”

“That’s … that’s not how allergies work.  I mean, I don’t think so.” Although as soon as the words are out of my mouth, the sensitive aching all over me collects between my legs -- and maybe it was there all along but I wasn’t willing to feel it.  And oh, _god_ , it’s agony.  And this _isn’t_ how allergies work, I’ve never reacted like this before.  I don’t think any human ever has.

Stupid _fucking_ alien pollen, oh my god.

I’m even hotter and more uncomfortable than I was a moment ago, and I have never been so attracted to anyone as I am to Hunk in this moment.  It would be weird, except that I know it’s been inside me for a long time, I’ve just been ignoring it as hard as I can. And now it just feels like I’ve been stupid for never doing anything about this, for never letting on even the slightest bit how I feel about him.

He’s definitely blushing, he’s bright red and he’s avoiding my gaze, barely breathing as I step close to him, close enough to touch if either one of us would just reach out and make the contact.  God, from this close I can _smell_ him, and I’m in no state to identify the smell but he’s driving me insane.

“Pidge,” he says, and then swallows.  “I….”

But he doesn’t continue the sentence, his voice simply stops, and he looks away again.  And I can’t take it any more.

“I know you want me,” I whisper, bracing my hand on the desk behind him, and leaning as close to him as I possibly can, without quite touching him.  His breath is shallow, his lips slightly parted, his eyes almost closed as he turns his head so his face is right beside mine. And god, _god,_ the heat is radiating off him.  I swallow hard, holding myself firmly steady despite the fact that my entire body is trembling  -- with nerves, with wanting, I don’t know. “I’ve seen you look at me. I know what it did to you a few weeks ago when the Pendari were here.”

Hunk’s breath catches in his throat at my mention of the Pendari, and my blood surges inside me.  He’d gone ultra-protective once they had genuinely threatened me, and the crush I’d been keeping secret had grown ten sizes all at once.  I had never wanted to find that sort of aggressive masculinity attractive, but _fuck_ if I hadn’t fallen head over heels for him because of it.  And right now, it’s the only thing, the _only_ thing I can think about.  For a moment I realize that being stuck on this has _something_ to do with that planet, with this allergy I’m having.  But I’m not out of my mind or anything, I’m lucid; everything I’m feeling is true, the only part that’s new about it is the throbbing urgency of the physical desire.

The urge to throw myself at him, to kiss him, to _fuck_ him right here -- it’s almost too strong to resist.

His hand brushes my hip, and I can feel the heat of his touch through my clothing.  It’s unbearable.

“I need you to know how much I want you.”  My mouth is so dry it comes out as a rasp.

He blinks, finally looking at me from just inches away, and the look in his eyes is … I can see the desire in him, too.  I extend my hand, curl my fingers into his neck, trying not to be rough, and I close the last inches between my lips and his.

The touch lasts forever, and as soon as his lips press back against mine I lose my nerve and stand back up, breaking the contact.

“Pidge….”

I can barely breathe.  “I just … I want you so bad.”

And then both of his hands are on my waist and he stretches up and kisses me again, harder, and it’s everything I want and i wrap my arms around his neck and he’s kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before.

It’s nothing like the time I made out with Amy Lyman at Jessica Merkel’s sleepover.  Hunk is -- he’s not timid about this at all. It feels like he’s holding back but it’s clear that it isn’t because he’s not sure about this: I can feel that he’s holding back a tsunami of lust, and I want it so fucking badly, I’m desperate for him to let it out so I can have _something_ , so I can have a tiny bit of relief.

I open my mouth against his and he slides his tongue into my mouth like it was always meant to do that, and instead of being weird it’s _phenomenal_ , it’s the sexiest thing that’s ever happened to me.  I scrape my teeth against him, just gently, and he moans and presses up into me even harder.

But then he’s pushing me back; our lips break apart with a wet _smack_ and I’m about to protest but then he’s up off the chair and backing me up against the counter, kissing me again, even harder now.  The edge of the counter is pressing into the small of my back and Hunk is so tall, he’s towering over me, surrounding me, and my neck is already aching from stretching up to meet his demanding mouth.

I could hop up on the counter, I think.  It would … be a little difficult with Hunk up in my face.  I’ll have to jump and I don’t want to head-butt him. But I also don’t really want to stop kissing him….

“Hey,” I mumble against him.  He doesn’t respond, so I try again, pushing on his chest a little.  “Hey.”

He backs off half an inch, his nose still pressing into my cheek and his breath hot on my face.  “What?”

“Counter.”  I wish I could be more eloquent.  “Lemme jump up.”

“Oh, right.”  And then both of his hands are on my ass and he lifts me right up and kisses me again.

And oh _fuck_ that was about the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me, I’m so fucking _wet_ and I spread my legs and pull him in and it’s like he was made to be right here, pressed against me.  Wrapped up in him like this I want him even more, so much it’s almost unbearable. I tighten my legs around the backs of his thighs, trying to pull him even closer, to feel _all_ of him.

And then he does it, and my heart leaps -- he leans all the way in, still kissing me, and _holy shit_ he really does have a boner and he rubs it against my groin and in an instant I’m halfway to orgasm.

I must have reacted somehow, because he stills for a moment and backs off.  “Pidge?”

“Don’t stop,”  I moan, pulling on his neck.  “Fuck, Hunk, don’t stop.”

He leans down and kisses my neck, and the touch is electrifying.  “You sure?” he murmurs, brushing his lips against my skin.

“God, _please._ ”

He kisses my neck harder, sucking on my skin, and grinds into me.  The friction is unbelievable, his touch shoots sparks through my body and I do my best to grind back against him, holding him here with my legs as he moans even louder and scrapes his teeth against my neck.

I come with a muffled shout as Hunk pants against my skin.  The orgasm rushes through me, hot and fast like a summer thunderstorm, and when I come back to myself Hunk has stilled, but hasn’t gone anywhere; he’s just watching me, quietly, his eyes still dark with lust, his lips full and glistening.

“Did you?” he breathes.

I’m still too close to it to speak; I nod.

He lets out a deep sigh, sets his forehead against mine and then trails kisses across my cheek.  “I, um. Can we … should we go someplace private?”

If anything, I’m even more horny than I was five minutes ago.  I’ve had him on me, but what I need is him inside me. “Yeah. Your room?”

“Sure.”

He takes my hand, and I hop down off the counter.  Now that he’s not pressed against me, I can see the straining bulge in his pants, I can make out the outline of his thick erection.  His pants are so tight around it that it barely moves as we walk, and his face betrays the discomfort.

It doesn’t take long to get to his room, the one right next to mine -- but his is much, _much_ less cluttered, and I wasn’t quite prepared to invite him into that.  Not when our relationship -- if one can even call it that -- is so new.  We’ve only been together a few minutes at this point, that doesn’t count as anything.  This is just … friends getting handsy. Or, well, ideally more than just hands. This has got to be a friends-with-benefits sort of situation, right?

The instant the door closes behind me he’s got both hands on my face and he’s kissing me, and I reach for his body, grab at his vest to push it off him because I need his skin, I _need_ it, all of it, and I do not have time for his clothes.  He lets go of me to pull the vest off, and I grab at his shirt, so it goes next.

 _God_ , he’s beautiful.  I’ve never genuinely prayed in my life but I whisper a blessing under my breath as his gorgeous brown skin is exposed to me, as he reaches for the hem of my shirt to peel it off.   _Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu,_ who has created this perfect man and brought him into my life.

When my shirt is off, though, he hesitates, looking at my bra.  Which … has seen better days, I need to go shopping soon, but it takes me a moment to realize he’s probably not standing there judging how good it looks.  He reaches for me, but stops short of touching. “Uh … will you?”

Oh, duh, he wants me to take it off because he’s not sure how.  Which is fair, and he probably wouldn’t have been able to get it anyway; I pop the clasp in front and shrug out of it, tossing it across the narrow room.  And then before I can wonder what the hell happens next, Hunk slips my glasses off and sets them haphazardly on the shelf, and then he’s on me, both of his hands caressing my skin, his warm lips pressing kisses to my forehead, my cheek, down my neck to my shoulder.

Now I remember what happens next.  I’m dying to get out of my pants, to get him out of _his_ pants, and to get us both into bed.  But his attention is overwhelming me, I’m hanging onto his bare shoulders while he loves me with his mouth, drops to one knee in front of me so he’s not so damn tall.

“Sorry I don’t really have boobs.”  It pops out of me unconsidered, and to my dismay, he seems to hesitate with his face right between the tiny bumps that are my breasts.

“What?  Sure you do, what are these?”

“Mosquito bites?”

Hunk stills, and sits back with a deep frown, though he keeps his hands firm on my waist.  “Who was mean to you growing up?”

I scowl at him, cranky at the loss of contact.  “Everybody, but I don’t want to unpack any of that right now, I just want to get dicked down, okay?”

He raises his eyebrows.  “Fine. But you have boobs, and I like them a lot.”

“If you say so.”

He takes them in both hands, soothing the ache of the loss of contact.  “I do say so. Now come on, I’m trying to fuck you.” He presses up against me again.

 _I’m about to lose my virginity to my best friend_.  “Right, of course. Fucking.”

He laughs, and the rumble feels _so good_ where his chest is pressed against my belly.  I take his head in my hands and bend down to kiss his forehead, pulling off his headband as I do it, and then I feel his fingers against my skin as he unfastens my shorts.  He seems uncertain, though, so I let myself release a little needy sound, the sexiest moan I can muster, and he slides them off my hips and down my legs before he gets to his feet.

I reach for his pants but he’s there before me, stripping them off, and then his underwear and _Jesus Christ_ his cock is as big as I’d dreamed it would be, thick and hard and standing straight out from his body.  I’m suddenly so wet I can actually feel it, and he steps towards the bed as I practically stumble out of my underpants, only just losing my socks and shoes before I tip onto the mattress, half on top of him.

He kisses me desperately, and I cling to him as he rolls us over, pinning me underneath him with his arms braced on either side of my head, and his hips between my spread thighs.  He’s so warm, so solid, and even though he’s barely got any of his weight on me I know that I’m absolutely not going anywhere. He lifts his mouth off mine, panting, and studies my face, his deep brown eyes searching.  I don’t know what he’s looking for, and all I can do is stare back, but then he leans down again, trailing slightly less frenzied kisses across my cheek and down under my chin.

“I’ve never done this before,” he mumbles against my skin.

“Me neither,” I gasp. “But it’s not like it’s hard, right?”

He lets out a breathy giggle and shifts, pressing his erection against my thigh. “It is hard, actually.”

“Oh, god.” He’s really laughing now, shaking both of us. “You know what I meant.”

“I’m never letting you get away with another double entendre as long as I live.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”  He kisses me full on the mouth again, and shifts his weight, getting one arm between us, positioning himself.  “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

The minute he takes poking around is agony, I want him so badly, but then he finds the right spot and slips in, just a little, and I moan again.  “God, Hunk….”

He groans something that could be _fuck,_ and he presses in, hard and hot.  And he’s big, he’s _enormous_ and it kind of hurts but I love it, the stretch and the sting from him being so much bigger than I was actually prepared for.  I’m gasping in a strange way and there are tears in my eyes but if he stopped I think I would scream.

And then he kisses me, and _oh yes_ this is what I need.  I wrap one arm around his neck and one around his back and I devour him, arching my body, rolling to meet his thrusts.  His teeth knock against mine and he kind of gets his lip on my nose and I scrape my fingernails over his skin, through the sheen of sweat that’s collecting on him.  He’s gasping, and I’m gasping, and his cock inside me is absolutely filling me with each thrust, stretching and rubbing, and when he grinds into me his pelvis presses against my aching clit.  I only came a few minutes ago and I’m practically there again, I didn’t know I could do this. Every roll of his body brings me closer to the edge, and I lose myself in the motion, in the rhythm of Hunk fucking me.

There’s a cry building in my chest, and when I finally let it loose my orgasm crashes over me, and it keeps going, and I have to gasp for air and when I let out another shout of a moan it peaks again, and again and again and then Hunk is groaning, he’s twitching and pressing against me so hard he’s practically folding me with the force of his abs, and just when I can’t take any of this any more he releases the tension.

In the space of a breath he’s no longer atop me, not completely; he’s lifted himself off me and flopped on his side by the wall, though there’s not enough space and his leg and arm are still draped across my body.  I like the weight, even though we’re both ridiculously sweaty.

He’s breathing hard still, against my cheek; I turn my head and catch his lips with mine, and he kisses me sweetly for a moment until I break away to relax back into his pillow.

I’m so tired, suddenly exhausted.  It would be so easy to just fall asleep here, in his bed, in his arms.

Which -- oh god.  How did we even get here?  I mean, obviously I know how we got here, I remember every second in vivid detail, but I’m not sure how we both decided this was a thing that would suddenly happen.  And without any protection….

My heart is beating faster, and this time it’s not pleasant.

“We, uh,” I say, with great difficulty.  “I didn’t think to ask you about a condom.”

His breath catches, and I think he stiffens briefly.  “Oh. Well, you remember -- or, well, _you_ wouldn’t remember.  But the Garrison offered a procedure to guys when we were recruited out of high school, and I had it done.”

“A _procedure_?”

“Yeah.  Reversible sterilization.”

This is news to me, and seems awfully strange.  “For real?”

“Yeah.  I think they offered something to girls too, but I guess since you faked your records you didn’t get the whole recruitment spiel.  They called it a benefit but I think they knew fornication was going to happen and they didn’t want to deal with pregnancy, so they pushed it pretty hard.  Technically voluntary but I got the feeling they wouldn’t really accept a _no_.”

It’s awfully strange to hear Hunk say the word _fornication_ in a sleepy, post-coital voice while he’s wrapped around my naked body.  The urgency I had before is completely gone, and I’m beginning to wish I’d had even a single thought about this before it happened.  Maybe had a conversation with him. Too late for that now.

“I should …”  I swallow. “I should get back to my room.”

He blinks at me, and he looks so sleepy I’m not sure he’s totally awake.  “Oh,” he says, and then he yawns, and to my dismay I yawn too. God, I’m so tired, I really just want to stay here and fall asleep with him.  But … I don’t know, I’m feeling like this is all too much too soon, and I need to be alone to process it.

“I have to clean up,” I say, as much to convince myself as to tell him.

Hunk nods, and closes his eyes.  “Good idea.”

I lift his arm off me and sit up, and I pull my legs out from under his thigh.  As soon as I’m upright I can feel the slime between my legs begin leaking out onto his sheets; I scoot to the edge, trying not to let too much of it get in the middle of his bed, but glad that I don’t have to lie in the wet spot.

I glance over my shoulder -- Hunk has his eyes shut, he looks perfectly at peace.

My underpants are right where I left them, and I slip them on, then my shorts, and then my shirt and glasses -- I’m not going to put my bra or shoes on for the ten-foot scurry down the hall to my door.

I hear Hunk shift, and make a little sleepy noise.  He’s rolled mostly onto his front now, curled up around his pillows instead of me.  It’s kind of chilly in here, now that we’re not engaged in vigorous activity, so before I go I grab the crumpled sheet at the foot of the bed and pull it up over him.  He sighs. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

I turn off the light on my way out.

 

When I wake up, I have no idea what time it is.

But there’s knocking at my door, and it seems kind of insistent, as though I’ve slept through it for a bit and whoever’s out there is getting impatient.  I push back my blankets and sit up, and my hips ache in a strange way when I move.

“Pidge?”

Of course it’s Hunk.  I decide I don’t need to put on pants.  “Come in.”

The door opens, and he steps into my room, then closes the door behind him again.  He turns on half the lights, and I squint against the sudden brightness.

“Sorry,” he says.

“‘S all right.”  I rub my eyes. “What time is it?”

“Mid-afternoon.  We’ve got like a varga before the meeting.”

Oh shit, that’s right.  Since Hunk and I retrieved the memory core, we were expected to get to work extracting its data to see if it actually has the strategic details we’re looking for.  But we -- or, well, I guess just Hunk -- barely even started on that. And I have a feeling that we won’t get anything done before the meeting, because having him here again is reminding me exactly why we were spectacularly unproductive a couple of hours ago.

My legs feel funny again, in a way that makes me want him between them.

“Well, thanks for waking me.”

“Oh.  Sure.”  He shifts his weight, and rubs the back of his neck.  “That wasn’t really why I came here.”

My heart jumps.  “Oh?”

“I, um….”  He sighs. “Can I sit down?  I feel so weird and formal standing here after we … before.”

It seems strange that he won’t put words to what we did, but then again, I’m not doing it either.  I scoot over and gesture to the space beside me with a nod. “Yeah, have a seat.”

He picks his way through the stuff on the floor and sits carefully beside me.  I notice he’s not wearing any socks or shoes, his feet are bare, and he hasn’t put his vest on either.  “I missed you when I woke up,” he says. “I understand why you wanted to leave, but I want to tell you that I would have totally cuddled for as long as you wanted.”

Warmth rushes through me, and I lean towards him without meaning to.  “I wanted to cuddle too. But I needed to do a little thinking.”

He nods.  “Did you get it done?”

“Well … kind of.  After I cleaned up I mostly just fell asleep.”

He laughs, just a little.  “Yeah, I’m sure you were as tired as I was.”

“Yeah.  I … it was kind of weird, though.  Like, I’m not usually _that_ tired after.  I felt like I could barely move and then I slept like a rock.”

Hunk is quiet for a moment, and then clears his throat awkwardly.  “You’re not _usually_ that tired after?”

This time the prickle all over my face and neck and chest is definitely a blush.  “I mean, not that I’ve … not with someone. I meant when I’m alone.”

“Right.”

I can’t bring myself to look at him, but I feel him shift a little bit beside me.  “It wasn’t very different for me. The being tired after, I mean. I usually just zonk out.”

An image pops into my head that I’ve never imagined before, but will never be able to forget:  Hunk lying on his back in his bunk, one leg bent, naked -- and now that I’ve seen him I know _exactly_ what this would look like -- and his hand wrapped around his cock.  In my mind his head is tipped back and his eyes are closed and he’s gasping softly as he tugs on it, and the image is so vivid that the gentle warmth in my belly that came from him sitting beside me turns instantly to liquid heat.

I want him again.  Not quite as urgently as before, but deeply, and now that I know what it feels like I know that I won’t be able to let this go.

But I think we have some talking to do before I ask him to fuck me again.

“So, this … um.”  Starting to talk about this is really, really difficult.  Which is frustrating, because he’s my best friend and I’ve never had trouble talking with him about anything before.  Why should this be any different? Especially when it’s something we did together.

His weight shifts on my mattress again, and I turn towards him.  He’s got one hand behind us, and he’s facing me, close to me in the low light and watching gently.

I gather my courage.  “What is it that we’re doing, exactly?”

He blinks, as though he’s surprised that I actually said it.  “Um. Well, I was hoping … I was kind of hoping you knew. You kissed me.”

He’s right, I initiated that first kiss.  “You didn’t exactly stop me.”

He takes a careful breath.  “To be honest, it was a dream come true.”

“Was it?”

He nods, and his tongue darts out, licking his lip briefly.  “I’ve wanted you for a while. A _long_ time.  But I didn’t know if you felt the same so I didn’t say anything.”

“I figured it out.  I mean, eventually. A week ago.”

“I’m just … the fact that you feel the same.”

“I should have told you sooner.”  I put my hand on his knee, and he leans it towards me.  “I didn’t … I didn’t mean to get so excited earlier. I just wanted to finally tell you, I had to tell you.  And then we kissed and I didn’t want to stop.”

“I didn’t want to either.”

“I know.”

We sit there for a minute, just breathing, watching each other.  Finally he moves his arm, sets his hand on top of mine on his knee and strokes my fingers gently, interweaves his with mine.  “I know that … it would have been good if we’d talked about this before we did it,” he says softly. “But I think it’s okay how it happened.”

I nod.  “Yeah, I think so.  And we’re talking now.”

“Right.”  His voice drops, and it resonates with my blood.  “Though I’m ready to be done talking, if that’s all right.”

I curl my fingers, holding onto his hand, and reach up with my other hand, twisting to touch his cheek.  He takes my hint in an instant, bending down the couple of inches to kiss me and setting my blood on fire.  The feeling is dizzying, and his tongue is sliding against mine and he’s on top of me again and pressing me into my pillow and I’m gasping in between kisses, writhing in an attempt to touch _all_ of him.

I can breathe better when he moves his face and presses a kiss in the soft flesh under my chin.  I’m more sensitive there than I thought, and when I grab his shoulders he hums, making my skin reverberate with his voice.

“So,” I gasp, “are we, like … what are we?”

He scrapes my throat with his teeth, and I shudder.  “I don’t know,” he says against my skin. The kisses resume, trailing down my neck.  I’m so glad I changed into a tank top, so he can work down to my shoulders.

“I won’t say we’re dating, I don’t think this counts as a date.”

He chuckles and picks up his body, shifts himself lower on me.  I spread my legs for him to settle between them, but it’s clear he’s not making a move to penetrate me like last time.  He puts a hand on my breast, and nuzzles the other through my shirt. My nipples are incredibly sensitive, and he brushes the one with his thumb, then gets the other with his nose, his lips; it’s so much that I feel like I could levitate off the bed.

“Christ!”

He laughs again, rumbling against my aching cunt.  “Invoking other people’s gods?”

“Shut up.”

He lifts off me enough to pull up the hem of my shirt and push it up over my breasts, and he does the same thing again against my bare skin.  I can’t do anything but moan, he feels so incredible; and then he kisses right on my sternum and turns his attention lower, kissing down the center of my belly.  It tickles when he gets to my belly button, and he keeps going, at which point I realize what he’s going for.

I pick my head up as best I can.  “Are you…?”

He glances up at me.  “This okay?”

“Oh yes.”

He grins.  “I’ve been eager to try.”

Oh fuck, I’m the luckiest girl in the world.  “Can’t say no to that.”

He nuzzles into the soft flesh of my lower belly, and brushes kisses along the elastic of my underpants.  “I kind of think this is taking us beyond being just friends.”

I giggle, and he lifts his head up again -- I suppose so he doesn’t bounce.  “I mean, we were beyond that already.”

He hooks his fingers under my waistband and tugs gently.  “I meant, doing it a second time. Doing oral. That’s, like … relationship stuff.”

“Maybe.”  I find I’m not ready to think about what to call this new thing between us when he’s about to eat me out.  I lift my hips, and he slides my underwear down my thighs; when he gets them to my knees he gets up, then slips them all the way off and lies down between my legs, spreading them to reveal me.

I’m suddenly nervous; I have no idea what this is going to feel like.  I’ve definitely gotten the impression that it’s pleasurable, in general, but his mouth and his cock are different things, and I don’t know if he’s going to be good at this.

He’s not touching me yet; I pick my head up again to look at him, and he’s just looking at me, like he’s studying my anatomy.  “Hey.”

He glances up.  “What?”

“You can touch me.”

He smiles, a little smirk.  “I’m enjoying the view first.”

I let out an impatient whine.  “ _Please_.”

He kisses me, so feather-light that it tickles and I almost twitch away.  Man, that’s _weird_.

And then he tightens his hand on my hip, and kisses me again, a bit more firmly, then opens his mouth and his tongue presses into me, exploring for a minute until it finds my clit.

“Oh, fuck.”  I didn’t mean to say anything, it just popped out of me, but it makes Hunk chuckle and the vibration of his mouth against my cunt is _unbelievable_.

“Good?” he mumbles, before he continues his exploration.

“God, Hunk….”

He takes his mouth off me, but then I feel his fingers, touching a bit more gently than I’d like, but then more firmly, and finally dipping inside me when he finds the spot.

“How’s this?”

“Nngh.  More.”

He presses in farther, then twists his hand and curls his fingers, and I almost scream; it comes out as some kind of barely-human groan.  “Your mouth,” I beg, gasping.

He keeps his fingers inside me and presses his mouth against me just above, hot and soft and wet, and I don’t know what of the wetness is him and what’s me but we’re slippery and he’s really eager now, he’s pressing firmly into me, caressing me with his lips and tongue and even letting his teeth scrape me just so, now and then.

I moan again, and Hunk sighs, shifts; he pulls his fingers out but quickly replaces them with his tongue.  His breath is hot and rough against me and I’m being eaten alive. The pleasure is overwhelming, and the emotions that are stirring up are so much, they’re too much, and I’m pulled underwater by all of it and I come in a haze, deep and breathless and like I might not be here when it’s over.

But I’m still here, gasping and trembling when it finally finishes.  Hunk is still holding on to my hips, nice and firm, grounding me into this moment with him.  He has his cheek pressed gently against my thigh when I’ve come down enough to look at him.

“Hey,” he says, smiling gently.

“Hi.”  I still sort of feel like I just came back to life.

“Was that okay?”

I actually laugh out loud.  “Hunk, are you serious?”

He grins a little broader.  “I want to hear you say it.”

I pull my legs together, trapping his head between my thighs, and smushing his cheeks a little.  “You can just live down there from now on if you want.”

“I guess I’ll take that.”  He’s chuckling as he gets up to his knees, and then crawls off the bed.  “You up for more?”

The bulge in the front of his pants is extremely obvious.  “Yeah, what are you thinking?”

He pulls his shirt off over his head, then unfastens his pants.  “Will you roll over?”

I understand what he wants -- and I think I’m into it.  Not anything I’ve ever fantasized about, but after what he just did I’m prepared to do pretty much anything he asks.  “Sure.”

He finishes undressing himself while I try to get my legs and hips to cooperate into rolling over onto my stomach.  It’s not easy; my joints feel like wet noodles. But I fluff my pillow and prop my head up, watching over my shoulder as Hunk returns to my bed, running one of his big, warm hands over my ass cheek, up to my lower back, down over the other one and then forward around my hip.

He pulls gently, and with his help I get my knees under my hips.  He presses inside me and it’s so much easier than the first time, I’m totally relaxed and wet and it feels so good, _so_ good.  He grabs my hips with both hands and starts thrusting, slowly at first, but it doesn’t take long for him to get faster, rougher.

I’m so sensitive from the orgasm I had a minute ago that every thrust is a lightning bolt of pleasure, stretching me and consuming me as he fills me, over and over and over.  And then something about the angle changes, he moves, and it’s new all over again. I’m gasping, pressing my face into my pillow and doing everything I can just to fill my lungs with air as he simultaneously pounds it out of me.  God, he’s so strong -- I reach one arm out ahead of me and brace my hand against the wall, pressing back against him as hard as I can.

He groans above me, and adjusts his grip.  His hands on my waist are firm, demanding, almost jerking me into him with every thrust.  I push back into him even harder, and one of his hands grabs up higher, onto my ribs, and his nails scrape me just a little as his thrusting becomes even more desperate.

He’s really making a lot of noise now, gasping and grunting and I can tell he’s close, he must be, we’ve been doing this since the beginning of time and I’m right at the edge of the precipice.

“Please,” I gasp, but my mouth is muffled by my pillow.

“Huh?”  It’s not even a word, he doesn’t pause.

“ _Please_.”  I’m begging, as loud as I can.

He readjusts himself over me, and with the new angle this is _it_ , and I come with a desperate gasp, and then again when he hits me there again, peaking over and over until his strength suddenly falters and we lose the angle.

But he’s let go of his death grip on me now, and he lets me drop back onto the bed, spent and sensitive and exhausted.  He hangs above me on his hands and knees for a minute, breathing hard, before he pushes me gently onto my side and lies down between me and the edge of the bed.

I think I must fall asleep for a little bit, because the next thing I know I’m cold, the sweat on my skin has evaporated and the castle’s chill is seeping into my flesh everywhere except where Hunk is touching me.

I allow myself a shiver, and he opens his eyes.  “Cold?”

“Yeah.  I need to clean up, though.”

He sighs.  “Yeah. And our meeting is soon.”

I can’t imagine he’s looked at a ticker, but he has this uncanny ability to just _know_ what time it is, so I don’t question him.  I stretch forward and give him a kiss, but he doesn’t deepen it.

He rolls onto his back, then pushes himself up to sitting.  “Go clean yourself up.”

Sitting up is a tall order -- my joints are really having problems now, and my skin is tender where he was holding me.  But I manage it, and I scoot around him and head into my bathroom.

I happen to glance in the mirror, and notice several purple marks on my neck and shoulders; I turn slightly, inspecting them, prodding gently.  They don’t hurt, but they sure are vivid. As I keep turning I pull up my tank top to check out my hips, and they’re a bit reddened from the force of Hunk’s grip, and there are some bright red scratches on my back as well.  Those will all definitely be covered by my clothing -- though they might be sore for a while -- but I’m not sure if my shirt will cover the bite marks on my neck.

When I’m cleaned up, I come out to find Hunk picking through the piles of stuff on my floor, with his shirt and his pants draped over his arm.

“Motherfucker,” Hunk mumbles under his breath. “I can’t find my underwear.”

I almost feel bad laughing as I go back over to the bed and sit down. Almost. “They’re gone, man. The room ate them.”

“That was my last clean pair, and I don’t want to go commando at the meeting.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.” I need to get my pants on too, but that would involve accepting that we’re actually going, when all I want is to do him again.

He looks at me with raised eyebrows.  “You should get dressed too. It’s in fifteen doboshes.”

I cross my legs and lean sideways on my pillow.  “I don’t have to get dressed just yet. Fifteen doboshes is enough time for us to do something else for a little bit.”

He picks his way across the room, and drops his clothes on top of the sculpture of him that I made out of trash.  He gives me a wicked little smile before he joins me on the bed.

 

By the time we get to the meeting, we're a couple of minutes late, and Hunk never did find his underwear.

In retrospect, taking those few extra minutes to make out with him might have been a bad idea -- I’m incredibly turned on again, and cranky that I’m going to have to spend the next however-long not touching him at all, acting like I haven’t spent the entire day after we returned having as much sex with him as I possibly could.

And I was right: my shirt doesn’t cover the hickeys on my neck, not quite.  My hair is a disaster, and it’s always kind of a disaster but I feel like it’s different today.  And Hunk is walking funny because he doesn’t have underwear on, though he did go back to his room for his socks and boots before we headed to the meeting.  So he _looks_ normal, but he and I both know that he’s freeballing, and every time I look at him I can see that his hair is a little wild, or his face is a little flushed, and when he catches me looking the desire positively radiates off him.

My mouth is dry and I feel hot all over, itchy and sensitive and it’s the worst between my legs.  I desperately want to touch myself, but we’re sitting around the table and everybody would see. Hunk would get the best view -- he’s right next to me, pulled the chair a bit closer than we usually have them, and it’s like I can feel the heat rolling off his body.  With him this close I can practically still taste his tongue, I can feel the girth of his cock inside me. When I shut my eyes for a moment I re-live the pained pleasure of him taking me a little too roughly.

Ugh, _fuck,_ this is too much.  I cross my legs as best I can, just to have _anything_ touching me, even if it’s just the seam of my shorts.  And it … it’s not nothing. Beside me I can feel Hunk tensing, I can hear when his breath stutters and I know that I’ve captured his entire attention.

“Pidge?”

My head snaps up, and across the table Shiro is looking at me intently.  He was talking to me and I have absolutely no idea what he said. “I’m sorry, what?”

He frowns a little deeper.  “We were asking for a status update on the memory core.”

Fuck.  “Oh. Yeah see … you know, because we had some trouble getting it, we haven’t gotten around to actually … working on it yet.”

Allura leans forward on her elbows.  “You got back four vargas ago, surely that’s enough time to at least make a start.”

I have no idea what to say -- _well, you see, we’ve been too busy having sex_ is obviously not going to go over well.  I look to Hunk, who’s looking slightly frightened.

“We didn’t expect to have to recover from going down to the planet,” he says quickly.  “There was pollen everywhere, and it turns out we both had an allergic reaction to it.”

Allura’s face morphs from irritation to compassion, and Lance sits forward, interested.

“Yeah,” I say.  “You know how bad my allergies are.  I’ve felt off ever since we were down there.”

Hunk nods.  “Brain fog and stuff too.”

None if this is technically lying, so I don’t feel too bad about it, and our teammates have clearly accepted this as a good enough reason that we’re falling behind on our part of this project.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get to it tomorrow?” Allura says, and she sounds hopeful, if slightly impatient.

“I think so,” I say.  “Once we’ve slept this off we should be good.”

Hunk makes an odd noise in his throat, and I realize my double entendre -- he promised me I’d never get away with those again, and he’s smiling behind his hand.

God, _fuck,_ I want him so badly.

The meeting wraps up in a blur; I’m so horny I have no idea what anyone else said, and I just get up when I see everyone else leaving.  Hunk is still right beside me, and follows without touching as we leave the room. Lance seems to be heading for his bunk, and I don’t want to go the same direction and have him realize that Hunk and I are fucking.  So I grab Hunk’s hand and pull him a different direction, and it’s only as we’ve almost run down the corridor that I realize we’re heading towards the lab.

“I thought we weren’t going to get to that today,” he breathes.

“We’re not, it’s just sort of private.”

He squeezes my hand, clearly understanding.

The lab is just as we left it, nothing unusual except for the data core -- I’m glad I wiped it down while we were in the lion, don’t want any of this shit contaminating the castle.  As soon as the door shuts behind us Hunk is on me, kissing me to within an inch of my life and I’m clinging to him as hard as I possibly can. That half-hour we were in the meeting was _agony,_ and now that I finally have him I’m losing control of myself.  He presses me up against the wall next to the door and deftly unbuttons my pants, then slides his hand down the front of my underwear.

His touch is electric, a lightning bolt of pleasure, and I moan out loud before he covers my mouth with his again.  He slides his hand lower, slips two fingers inside me and starts stroking firmly, keeping time with his tongue.

I’m tingling all over, this as all so much, it’s so _exciting_ doing this here, where we’ve spent so much time together.  Where I finally got up the guts to actually kiss him a few hours ago.

I come slowly, like the tide coming in.  Hunk swallows my cries, still working me with his fingers until I’m so sensitive I feel like I could crawl right up the wall.  When I push gently on his chest he pulls his hand out, and holds my gaze as he brings the hand to his face, smelling and then licking the moisture off his fingers.

What did I ever do to deserve him?

I take him by the hips, and he lets me turn us around, switching places so he’s against the wall now, and I unbutton his pants and his already-hard cock barely needs any coaxing to pop free.

And then I discover the issue with my plan -- if I’m standing I’m clearly too tall for this, but if I kneel, not only will it hurt my knees (and my legs are having problems enough already from all this fucking), but I think I might be too short.

I glance up at Hunk, who looks like he can’t believe what’s happening.  He points behind me. “Try a chair?”

It’ll get the job done; I grab one and pull it close, and I’ll only have to bend over a little bit to reach.

I take his cock in both hands, stroking it, getting to know its size and shape and heft while Hunk gently pants above me.  He’s got one hand pressed flat against his hip, sort of holding his pants up, I think; I glance up, and his other hand, the one he had inside me, is in his mouth and his eyes are shut.

An erotic tingle wiggles its way from my chest all the way down into my crotch, and I tighten my grip on his cock, which gives a little throb.  The tip is leaking, and the scent is musky and bitter. I think for a moment that this might be off-putting but it’s really not, I’m salivating and I want nothing more than to swallow him. 

I wrap my mouth around the head of his cock, licking up the fluid, and Hunk twitches and groans.  He feels huge like this, and the scent of everything is all around me, and above me I can hear him panting as I experiment, moving my mouth around like this, and then like that; licking around the edge of the head, and then applying pressure on the underside, sliding down and back up.  I let my teeth catch on his foreskin as I push it back, and his hips twitch, an aborted thrust into my mouth that almost gags me for half a second.

Then I work to include my hands.  There’s no way I can take his whole cock into my mouth, but with my hands I have him covered all the way down to the base, and I try to coordinate my movements, to spread my saliva down lower ( _god_ I’m drooling a lot) and lubricate my touch.

Something brushes my cheek.  I open my eyes but all I see is a brown shape moving across my field of vision, and then Hunk’s hand is on my head, stroking my hair.  He gets his fingers worked right down to my scalp, and tightens them just a little at the back of my head, pulling ever so slightly, and for a minute I completely lose track of what I’m doing to him because the pleasure is so intense.

I swallow around Hunk’s cock as best I can, and start moving again.  His hand on my head isn’t controlling me at all, he’s just along for the ride, holding my hair with just enough tension that I remember he’s there, that he _could_ control me, that if he wanted to he could grab my head and fuck my brains out and by god, I would let him.

Just as I have the thought, he groans, and his hand tightens in my hair, and for a thrilling moment I think he’s going to do it but instead he’s pulling me back.  I take my mouth off him reluctantly and look up, and he has an almost pained expression on his face, his eyes are squeezed shut and I can see the muscles in his jaw working as he grits his teeth.

“What?” I gasp.

He shakes his head.  “Too close.”

“It’s okay.”  I try to lean in again, but he stops me.  “You can, it’s all right, I want it.”

He blinks his eyes open at me, and they’re so dark that I don’t think I’m at all imagining the intensity of the lust.  “Not like this,” he says, and his voice is so deep it would sound like a threat if it wasn’t such an irresistible offer.

He releases my hair and I stand up, and he backs me up against the counter.  I know exactly what he’s doing, _exactly,_ and I shimmy all the way out of my pants and underwear as he gets his own pants out of the way.  My clothing almost gets caught on one of my shoes, but I manage to disentangle it just in time for him to grab me around my hips and lift me right up onto the counter.  It actually hurts a little, I’m kind of tender right where he’s grabbing me because he grabbed me just there before, but I don’t care, I’m so wet and I’m so ready.

He thrusts inside, and I pull him flush against me, holding his head to my shoulder as he groans, wrapping his arms around my back.  “Fuck….”

“God, yes,” I gasp, and he rolls his body, pressing into me again, pressing me into the hard surface of the counter.  The edge of it is probably going to leave a mark in my butt but I don’t care at all.

He picks his head up, kisses me roughly, then trails his lips down my cheek and over to my neck again.  His hips are moving faster now, and this is all so desperate and rough that I’m losing my mind a little.

He hits me just right, and a moan pops out of me.  “Hunk….”

He says something that might be my name, but he’s too preoccupied and I’m in too much of a fog to know for sure.  I’m so full, so surrounded by him and filled with him and it’s all so much, he’s so hot and I’m so wet and we’re so wrapped up in each other that we’re basically one being now.

I tighten my fingers in his shirt as I feel my orgasm approaching, scratching him through the fabric.  “Fuck, I love you.” My voice does something weird as I say it, and there’s a jolt of pleasure, and then he gasps and pounds into me even harder and then --

“What the _actual fuck,_ you guys?!”

We both freeze, and the hormonal haze in my mind clears just a bit and over Hunk’s shoulder I see Lance in the door of the lab.

“Oh shit,” Hunk breathes, and I can feel the motion of his lips against my neck more than I can actually hear the words.

Lance hasn’t moved, and he looks actually kind of horrified.  “Hunk, I … I can see your _entire_ ass right now.”

Hunk groans, curling into me more.  His hair is dripping with sweat against my skin, and I have a sudden urge to push him off of me but then Lance would _really_ get an eyeful and that is not something I want at all.  I keep my heels pressed into the backs of Hunk’s legs.

“So stop looking,” I finally manage.

“It’s like watching a car accident.”

“Stop already!” Hunk says, and he finally picks up his head, turns just enough to look at Lance over his shoulder.  “We … we didn’t plan this.”

“I should hope not!”  Lance has turned discernibly red now, and with a sudden motion he crosses his arms and turns so he’s facing away from us.  “Anyway. I just came for some tools that Coran wanted. I’ll tell him I couldn’t find them.”

“I think that would be best,” I say, and it comes out weakly.

“Just give us a little time,” Hunk says.  “Like, ten minutes. We’ll get out of here.”

Lance scowls at the wall, still carefully not looking at us.  “I hope you wipe down the counter too.”

“We will,” I say, and my voice cracks a little.

Hunk looks at me apologetically, and slips his cock out of me.  It’s still completely hard, and slick and glistening with my lubrication.  “Would you turn around, man?”

Lance grumbles, but he turns his back to us and stalks out into the hallway.  “Team Punk does it again, huh,” he mutters under his breath. “Jesus.”

God, Lance was there for that once, wasn’t he?  It’s almost embarrassing how long we spent practicing that secret handshake the first time we got the idea for it, and now of course _does it again_ is forever going to have a suggestive meaning and we’ll never be able to use it again.  Not publicly, anyway.

Hunk steps back, and I release my legs’ grip on his hips.  His pants are around his knees and he pulls them up, trying to get himself put away while I slide off the counter and awkwardly collect my shorts and panties from the floor.  Getting them on over my shoes isn’t easy, and I almost wonder how I got them off so easily. Maybe it wasn’t easy, maybe I was just determined.

“The counter,” Hunk says, and hands me a rag; it takes me a moment to remember I told Lance we’d wipe it down, since my bare ass was on it.

And there is a little bit of a smear of wetness, and I can feel the same between my legs, caught uncomfortably in my underwear.  I wipe off the counter, and then again for good measure. It occurs to me I should probably use something to disinfect it, but since I’ve never before had occasion to want to disinfect anything here, I’m at a loss for what I could possibly do.  I guess this will just have to do.

I look back to Hunk; he seems uncomfortable, and the front of his pants are impressively tented.  I’m a little bit surprised he was able to get them on, actually.

“Ready?” he says, just loud enough for me.

I nod, and I’m blushing now that I remember Lance is out in the hall and we’re going to have to walk past him.  Hunk reaches for me, and I squeeze his hand, but then I release it again because … well, because I still don’t know what we are, and I’m not comfortable suggesting things to Lance that I haven’t even begun to discuss with Hunk.

Which is so, _so_ stupid, because Lance walking in on us fucking suggests a lot more than holding hands would.  All the same, I’m not going to do it. Not right now.

Hunk hesitates, but then he turns for the door, and I follow him.  Lance is just outside, where I expected him to be, and still has his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“Sorry,” Hunk says quietly as we scurry past.

“Yeah, okay,” Lance grumbles, and once we pass him he goes into the lab.

I have a sudden urge to run.  I walk a little faster, and Hunk keeps pace with me, and a few breathless minutes later we’re back in my room, and I’m shaking from excitement and it’s all I can do not to burst out laughing when my door closes behind Hunk and I can see the same amused disbelief on his face.

“Oh my _god_ ,” I say.  “Can you believe that just happened?”

“That was the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me in my entire life,” he says, but he’s grinning and almost laughing.  He steps over a pile of something and puts his hands on my waist, hinting like he wants to take my shirt off, but he gets distracted again by something on the floor and makes a frustrated huff.  “Jesus Christ, Pidge, how do you live like this?”

I still feel giddy, and I put my hands on his chest, trying to pull him closer.  “You’re not allowed to judge me, I’ve sucked your dick.”

“That’s bullshit, but I’ll shut up because I want you to do it again.”

“Good enough.”

We undress without regard to where our clothes land, and he pulls me to my bed and I lie between his legs to suck him off again, but like the first time he stops me before he finishes.  Unlike last time, he pulls me on top of him, penetrates me easily, and then somehow manages to have his hands on my hips and his thumb on my clit at the same time.

Riding him is _thrilling_ , and I can’t believe I never fantasized about this before.  I’m also more than a little bit overwhelmed with sensation, and after just a minute I push his hand away.

“No?” he says, kind of gasping.

I shake my head, brace my hands on his chest and lean forward.  “Too much.”

“Okay.”  He tightens his grip on me, and I grind into him, rolling my hips.  The feeling of him inside me like this is somehow completely different than every other way I’ve had him inside me.  Maybe it’s because I control it -- if I lean back a little, or twist my hips, or do any number of other things the angle inside me changes.

And -- _oh,_ that’s it, that’s what I want.  I gasp at the same time as Hunk does, and just like that I’m almost there.  So I let go that last little bit, I let my body take what it wants and I tip my head back and fill myself with Hunk as I throw myself over the precipice of my orgasm.

His arms are around my waist, and his mouth is on my breast, kissing and licking.  I crawl backwards off his lap, and it’s enough that he can take me in his arms again and swap our positions.  Now I’m flat on my back under him, and he kisses me hard before he thrusts back in between my legs.

The stab of pleasure is overwhelming, and he swallows my cry with more kisses.  And fuck, _fuck_ he’s desperate.  Not that we’ve had much in the way of finesse today, but he’s rough and sloppy and the way he’s gasping I know he’s just about there.  How many times is that today? I can’t begin to count right now. I clench around him, and he moans and buries his face in my shoulder and I come again, digging my fingernails into his back and gasping for breath underneath his sweaty body.

When he finally flops off to the side of me I ache all over, and I’m soaking wet and I’ve never felt so satisfied in my life.  It’s like even my bones got into it, every cell of me is finally sated.

Hunk is breathing hard, and he’s holding me firmly to him.  His skin is so much warmer than I really want to be, but at the same time I need his touch.  After all of this that’s just happened, and as confusing as it was, touching him is still right, it makes sense.

I feel clearer than I have since before the mission, and the last several hours are now in retrospect somewhat hazy, unclear, almost like I wasn’t completely myself.  Which I think would normally be a very disconcerting feeling, but for some reason I don’t mind. It’s not like I don’t _remember_ what happened, or that I didn’t want it, because I do and I did, and I don’t regret anything.  But I don’t know why I decided to do it, why it seemed so important.

Maybe it was that planet, that pollen.  Maybe whatever plant was trying to reproduce happens to stimulate an arousal reaction in humans.

The thought strikes me as being oddly hilarious, and I giggle, tightening my arm around Hunk’s shoulders.  He hums, and brushes his nose against my skin. “What?”

“Just thinking.  You know how we thought we were allergic to the pollen, maybe it was an aphrodisiac.”

He makes a thoughtful sound.  “That would certainly make sense.”

“Whatever it was, I feel like it’s past now.  It’s out of my system.”

“Yeah, me too.  And I’m kind of wondering how we actually got to this point.  I mean, not like I don’t remember. I’m just surprised it happened.  And so fast.”

I suddenly feel uncomfortable -- maybe I’m okay with what happened, but Hunk was a part of this too.  And I can’t really tell his tone right now, I’m not sure if he’s okay with all of this or if this is him building up to regretting it, and my stomach twists as I try to figure out what to say.  “So, we … I mean, it did happen really fast. And it’s not something I had planned, it just … it just kind of happened.” I stop, swallow, trying not to read anything into his silence. He’s just listening to me, thinking.  “I meant it, what I said before,” I continue, quietly. “I love you.”

He’s quiet again for a long minute, and my heartbeat quickens with each passing moment.  But then he takes a breath.

“This has all been … super weird.  But ... it’s okay, because it was with you.  You’re my best friend and I’m in love with you, and if this had to happen it couldn’t have been any better.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

He shakes his head, and his hair brushes against my shoulder as his fingers trail through mine, just brushing the underside of my breast.  “I’m not just saying. I’ve been trying to find a way to say it for a while, and … I’m not saying it now because of this allergy thing that happened to us.  I mean, that helped. But I really mean it, I’m absolutely certain.” He tips his face up at me. “Pidge, I’m in love with you.”

I tighten my arm around his shoulders, and press a kiss to his forehead.  My heart is so full I could explode, and the acuity of my relief makes me almost want to cry.  “I’m in love with you too, Hunk.”

He nuzzles my chest, and we lie there for a while, just breathing and holding each other as tightly as we can.

“So, we …” I begin, but then I have to take a moment to clear the congestion in my chest.  “What … are we, exactly?”

He sighs, drawing some kind of pattern on my skin with his fingertip.  “What do you want to be?”

“I don’t know.  ‘S why I’m asking.”

“But you want to be _something_.”

“I guess.”

He flattens his hand, smoothing it along the lower edge of my ribs.  “Is it too obvious if we just go with boyfriend and girlfriend?”

I move my hand to his head, running my fingers through his hair.  “Is there anything wrong with obvious?”

“I guess not.”

“So we’re … dating?  We’re a couple?”

He shrugs.  “Works for me.  I feel like you’re overthinking it.”

“I like nomenclature.”

He chuckles.  “I know you do.”

We’re quiet again for another few minutes, and I start to feel sleepy, like taking a nap here with him would be just about the best thing ever.  But before I can doze off, he shifts, lifts up on his elbow and then kisses me, slow and sweet.

“We should get up,” he murmurs.

I squeeze my eyes shut and tighten my fingers in his sides.  “Mm. No.”

“Yes.”  He brushes my nose with his.  “You have to clean up.”

I reluctantly admit he’s right about that one; the evidence of our lovemaking is leaking out of me, and I’ll have to wash my sheets anyway.

I sigh, and I sit up slowly.  “Yeah, okay. Lance knowing we’re fucking now is embarrassing enough, getting a UTI and having to explain that to the Alteans would be a fate worse than death.”

Hunk laughs.  “If you say so.”

I lean over to plant a quick kiss on his lips before I stand up.  “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll help you find your clothes before we actually go do that thing we were supposed to be doing the whole time.”

He grins, and this whole picture of him sitting naked on my bed and smiling at me is something I never knew I wanted, but it’s been inside me for a long time, I can see that now.  He’s in my blood, he’s a part of me. This is only the beginning for us.


End file.
